“It’s already too late,” he told her.
Maybe, but for now she could pretend. She opened her mouth, then closed it, turned and fled the bar. She made it all the way home without once looking back, without admitting that she hoped he would follow her. He didn’t. When she reached her house, she went upstairs alone and faced a very cold, very empty bed.
TUCKER DIDN’T LIKE to lose. Not in business and not in his personal life. He’d spent a hellishly long night wanting what he couldn’t have. He was pissed off and didn’t care that all the reasons against it made sense, that Nevada had made the right decision.
What had started out being driven by having something to prove had turned into something else. Something more important. That didn’t ease the ache or the hunger. Sometimes, life was a bitch.
He stalked back to the trailer, thinking coffee would help his mood. When he arrived he faced not only an empty pot but a well-dressed, white-haired woman sitting in the chair beside his desk.
“Mr. Janack,” she said, coming to her feet. “I’m Mayor Marsha Tilson.”
“Mayor Tilson.” He held out his hand.
They shook. “Call me Mayor Marsha,” she said. “Nearly everyone does.”
“All right, Mayor Marsha. How can I help you?”
“I wanted to talk about the project out here. What you’re doing and how it’s going.”
Visiting local officials rarely brought good news, he thought. He crossed to the coffeepot and replaced the used filter and grounds. After flipping the switch to start, he faced the older woman.
“We’re still on schedule. Of course it’s been all of a month, so that could change by this afternoon. We’re current on all our permits. We’ll start excavating to put in the sewer and water pipes within a week or two.”
He leaned against the trailer’s counter and crossed his arms over his chest. Now it was her turn.
She stood and moved closer. Her light blue suit and fussy blouse were out of place in the construction trailer. The strange thing was, she wasn’t out of place. He’d met people like her — those who belonged anywhere. It was an important gift, especially in a politician.
“The town is very happy with your work,” she told him. “You pay attention to local regulations and you don’t cut corners. Your employees are respectful.” She smiled. “They’re also generous tippers.”
He raised an eyebrow. “An interesting fact to keep track of.”
“This is my town. I care about what happens here, and very little happens that I don’t know about.”
He wondered if she was going to take him to task for trying to sleep with Nevada. Although if she were a man instead of a grandmother, she would be congratulating him on his good taste and wishing him luck.
“We appreciate what the resort will bring to Fool’s Gold,” she continued. “Business, jobs, tourists. There will be complications, of course. Something this big will have a settling-in period. We’ll get through it — we always do.”
He sensed there was more and waited.
“Your company won’t be running the resort.”
She wasn’t asking, but he answered anyway. “No.”
“But you do have a say in who is hired. Janack Construction is part owner.”
“We’ll have input. Why? Do you have a nephew you want me to recommend?”
She smiled. “No. But I would like to be consulted when the upper-level management decisions are made. People have to fit in, respect the town. I’m not interested in an us-versus-them mentality.”
On the surface she looked like the kind of old lady who got her hair done once a week, baked cookies and clucked her tongue at “young people today.” But he could tell those assumptions were wrong.
“You’re pretty tough, aren’t you?”
“When the situation calls for it,” she admitted. “Will you do as I ask?”
“Sure. But in return I want to know why Jo Trellis keeps blowing off Will. He’s only trying to get to know her.”
“You’re assuming I have that information.”
“I’m not wrong.”
The mayor shook her head. “No, you’re not. There is a reason.”
“Are you going to tell me what it is?”
She picked up her purse and walked toward the door. “No. It’s not my secret to share.”
“So, there’s a secret.”
“Everyone has secrets, Mr. Janack. Even you.”
CHAPTER NINE
MAX LEANED IN and kissed Denise on the mouth. They were lying in bed, where they spent a good part of their time together. She found it kind of nice to know that, even at her age, the hormones were alive and well. Being around Max made her feel all tingly and happy.
“My kids really liked you,” she said, staring into his blue eyes and smiling.
“Did they have a choice?”
She laughed. “They could have been difficult, not that I expected them to be. You’d already won over Montana. She loves her job.”
“She’s great to have around. She’s responsible and inventive. A combination that’s hard to find. Nevada avoided looking at me all evening.”
“Can you blame her?”
“No. We really need to start locking the doors.”
“I agree.” She snuggled close, her legs tangling with his.
She’d spent the first few years after Ralph’s death wondering how she was going to survive. Even though her kids were grown, she’d kept busy. Recently, she’d thought it would be nice to start dating again. She’d hoped to find someone who interested her. She’d never thought she would be lucky enough to fall so completely for a man as amazing as Max.
“I never stopped thinking about you,” he told her. “Wondering how you were, what you were doing.”
“I thought about you, too.” She had, fleetingly. After all, she’d been taking care of Ralph and their six kids. There hadn’t been a lot of time for speculation.
“Not the same,” he told her lightly. “You were married to someone else.”
“You never married?”
He shook his head. “Didn’t want to. There were women,” he added.
She smiled. “Dozens. Hundreds.”
“At least.”
He kissed her.
She felt a twinge and pushed the jealousy away. She had no right. She’d been off being happy and she should want the same for Max. Thirty-five years was a long time.
“I wanted to come back when I first heard about Ralph,” he admitted. “But I knew that would be a mistake.”
“You’re right. It would have been. I wasn’t ready. I grieved for him for a long time. Plus with the kids…”
He kissed her again. “I wasn’t ready, either. I knew I had to change, to be the man you deserved. Grow up, I guess. But it’s different now. I can be that guy.”
She traced the shape of his jaw, then rested her hand on his bare shoulder. “You were always that guy.”
“No, but I had potential. I love you, Denise. I want to marry you.”
She heard the words, followed by a rushing sound. The room tilted, then seemed to spin out of control. All she could think about was when she’d married Ralph. How proud he’d been when the minister had introduced them as Mr. and Mrs. Hendrix. How she’d known then she would love him forever.
“No,” she said involuntarily, sitting up and pulling the sheet with her. She scrambled out of the bed, wrapping the sheet around her. “I’m sorry. But no.” Her breath came in short gasps as her lungs constricted.
She stared at him, strong and handsome and naked in her bed. In her bedroom. What had she been thinking?
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, giving in to the panic.
Max got to his feet and came around the bed. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
She touched her face and was surprised to feel tears. “You’re a good person. No, a wonderful person. But this would be all wrong.” She knew she wasn’t making any sense, but couldn’t stop herself from speaking.